Not gonna lie, I think a great deal of it should remain there with a sign out front that says "Garage Sale: Don't Make Eye Contact or You'll Be Leaving With Something Heavy" because the majority of the stuff was purchased more than a decade ago and is ... needing a little fire to repair it.
We've finally compromised on a floor we both like. It took 5 years to get there, but we're there, and I'm not slowing down until the floors are in lest we both decide we're not ready again.
Much like naming our children, Husband and I came close to divorce trying to get here. Not in a "domestic in the flooring store" type of way, but ... uh, not that far from it.
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| "Did someone say rainbow flooring? YES PLEASE!" |
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| "Oh, this? I just had them move the Sistine Chapel to Chatham, obvi." |
I just really wanted the herringbone, vibrant alive look and he just really wanted something elegant, grand and ... uh yeah.
Don't ask how we got from these two places to where we both ended up (a wide, engineered hardwood in a dark espresso) but it involved a lot of trickery, a couple of ninja moves, and quite a lot of hard bargaining. I'm sure the owner of the flooring company probably drinks more, now, too. But whatever. I can't control how other people react to my awesomeness, now can I?
So, Monday, the flooring peeps are gonna bust in and tear shit up.
I'm super excited because a) it's getting done and I'm not involved and b) I'm not involved because Kiddo #1 has a week long MERMAID SCHOOL to attend.
Yes, I said it. MERMAID FRICKING SCHOOL!
GAAH! She's living my hidden dream. Ok, not so hidden. The whole experience came up because everyone in the world knows I'm obsessed with interested in mermaids and unicorns. I'm basically a 6-year old girl. So Second Best Girlfriend, who lives in Kitchener-Waterloo saw an ad and posted it on my Facebook wall.
SAY WHAT?! Learn how to do Mermaid things? What do mermaids even do? I don't have any idea, but Kiddo #1, complete with tail, will find out next week. Honestly, if she came out of the water able to create pearls with her hands, I would not be surprised. If she learned nothing except got a chance to swim around with other mermaids in some sort of mermaid city, like Atlantis, and pose for pictures, I'd probably be completely ok with that, too. Seriously.
What an AMAZING time to live, when you can LITERALLY be a mermaid when you grow up. Like, fuck the future. Even when feminism wins and we're all equal on the planet, we won't be equal with tails.
I've set up special rigging in the rafters of the synchronised swimming pool so that I can take video from waaaaay above the mermaids, while they swim in circles and whatever else they're gonna do. It's gonna be fucking EPIC.
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| Our house was previously owned by cream, not coffee lovers, I assume. |
Kiddo #2, meanwhile, will be learning to fly with that same rigging. I mean, if Kiddo #1 can become a mermaid, why can't my son become Peter Pan? I'm seriously squealing in delight with all this. Sure, I'm gonna have to teach him, but it can't be any harder than like, climbing a rock wall, right? Make a fancy knot and ta-da, Kiddo Pan. He's gonna love it.
And, then, just when you think life cannot get any better, we're finally replacing all the floors next week WHILE I'M AWAY, and a week or so later, we've decided to finally get rid of the Triple Triple that has likely been on our walls since the house was originally built. It's like Obama and Hilary with a side of glitter. NO! Pixie dust! I'm off to bathe a Tinkerbell barbie in glitter so that when I shake her over my kids next week, they'll be able to fly.
It's a helluva a time to be alive, people.
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